


Sweet Dreams Are Made of These

by runsinthefamily



Series: Nineteen [6]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Dream Sex, F/M, Guilt, Priana's dirty sleeping mouth, UST, stealth - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-23
Updated: 2011-10-23
Packaged: 2017-10-24 21:33:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/268128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runsinthefamily/pseuds/runsinthefamily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders is trapped between a wet-dreaming Priana and the wall of a cave.  OH NOES.</p><p>Takes place immediately following chapter 11 of Nineteen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Dreams Are Made of These

Three days out from Anders's near-miss with temptation, the darkspawn found them again. It was a small band, perhaps ten genlocks and a hurlock archer, what the Warden-Commander had used to call 'a light workout.' Still cause for caution, what with only one warden in the group, the fact that they were alone and lost, not to mention their abysmally low supplies.

Priana leapt into them with a particularly wild whoop, daggers flashing, and Anders barely bit back a cry of -

"Hawke, be careful!" Varric followed up his shout with a massive volley of arrows, Bianca's winches and cranks groaning with the stress.

"Ice!" came back over her shoulder and then she was somersaulting under a genlock's swing.

Anders, cursing, swept out a half-circle of dagger-sharp spears of ice just as she popped up behind one of his targets and splintered it to pieces.

"Never not fun!" She grinned and was gone again.

Afterward, as they carefully cleaned their gear and Anders carefully inspected every small scrape and cut, she kept on throwing him little glances, tiny secret smiles and winks and Maker, he should really have had more restraint. Nightmares, no matter how horrific, were no excuse.

Varric eyed them constantly, suspicion and warning in every line of his blocky Dwarven face. At this point, Anders figured it was a toss-up between starvation, the darkspawn, or Varric's itchy trigger finger as the cause of his untimely demise.

WE CANNOT DIE DOWN HERE. THERE IS WORK TO BE DONE.

Anders pinched the bridge of his nose. More than a year after he and Justice merged and there were still moments where the duality of his thoughts left him disoriented. At times he wondered if they would ever fully integrate. He wondered if he wanted them to.

"Are you alright?"

Priana, of course, her dirty, tired face the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"I'm fine," he said. "Just - tired."

"We cannot camp here," said Fenris. "We should move on."

"What, you don't want to bed down among dead darkspawn? Who knew you were so picky?" Varric slung Bianca over his shoulder and got his feet with a sigh. "Let's go if we're going."

"We'll look for a good spot to stop," said Priana, offering Anders a hand up. "Maker knows we could use the rest. I have no idea what time of day it is, even, we've been down here so long."

"It's late afternoon," said Varric absently.

"How do you know that?" Fenris asked.

"I - huh." Varric rubbed his bare chin. "I guess there is something to all that 'underground Dwarven senses' crap after all."

"I can keep going for a while longer," said Anders, letting Priana pull him to his feet, trying not to savour the touch of her fingers on his.

"I don't care if it's noon," said Priana. "You - we need to sleep."

They found a small cave off to one side, only slightly noisome with ancient deepstalker droppings, cleaned it out as best they could, and made their camp. Varric offered first watch, down at the end of the little tunnel that led to the cave, and the rest of them lay down in the cramped quarters.

Priana sandwiched herself between Anders and Fenris, using her body the way she always used her words to keep them from each other's throats. Anders turned his face to the wall, trying not to notice the way that Fenris shifted awkwardly when Priana's thigh brushed his. He stared, open eyed, at the musty earth a few inches from his nose. Tension hummed through him. He could feel the warmth of her, through their clothing, through the air. Through his very skin, it seemed, heating his belly.

It took a very long time to fall asleep.

He was wakened by a low, rhythmical noise.

The red glow of the fire at the tunnel mouth had died down to dim flickering, and when he raised his head, he saw the wide, squat form of Varric on the other side of Priana. A rumbling snore emanated from him as usual, low and grumbly and somehow reassuring.

Priana had turned in her sleep and was now pressed up against Anders's back, her nose buried in the ragged fur of his pauldrons, her hand tucked beneath her chin. She mumbled sleepy protest as he shifted, trying to ease his cramped shoulder, and the minute he resettled, she snuggled in closer, pushing her knees up against the back of his, gripping his coat with one hand.

He exhaled slowly. There was nowhere to go. His nose was practically pressed against the wall as it was. "Hawke," he whispered, shrugging his shoulder a little. "Hawke, are you awake?"

No response.

Maker. He could feel her breath against the nape of his neck, stirring the hair there, a warm, moist tide that swept over his skin and then retreated. How close were her lips? If he shifted toward her, just slightly, could he, would they -?

NO.

He should wake her. Wake her and get her to move. But she was so tired, they all were, and he knew that she wasn't sleeping well. The darkness under her eyes grew deeper every day. If a little discomfort was the price for her rest, he would pay it gladly.

"Nhhn," she said, her voice blurred and husky, and - yes, moved her hips against him, ever so slightly. His cock twitched a little.

 _Andraste's ass._ He was wide awake, now, staring at the wall, his heart beating just a little too fast.

"Mmmhmmn."

Again, her hips. Maker's cock, was she ...?

"Yessss." It was a low sigh, definitely not of the innocent variety.

WAKE HER UP.

She shifted, closer to him, which he had not really thought was possible, and her arm slid over his ribs. Her hand splayed across his stomach, loose and uncoordinated.

Void take it, why had he taken off his coat to sleep? It was hot as Andraste's pyre down here, true, but now there was nothing between the insistent little motions of her hips and his buttocks but a few layers of thin cloth. He could feel her hipbones. He could feel the place between them, the cunning mound of her sex pressing into the crack of his arse and oh fuck, it was hot, it was scorching.

"Mmmn," she said. No, it was a moan, a tiny little moan, so quiet he almost missed it. What came after it, though, was unmistakable.

" _Anders._ "

He stopped breathing.

"A-anders," she said again. "Uh."

His cock surged against the fabric of his pants. A dream. She was having a dream. About him.

"Fuh - uh. Mmmn." Her breath grew hotter against his neck. Her hips rocked forward insistently.

Maker have mercy. What was she dreaming of? What was his dream self doing to her? Images spilled unbidden into his mind, Priana on her back, on her knees, Priana moaning and quivering beneath his hands, his tongue, Priana's hair and neck and breasts and legs ...

"Ander - why - don't sto - uhn," she muttered in his ear. Her hand clenched in his shirt, pulling the fabric up over his belly. She drove forward hard enough to push him to the wall and he braced a hand against it.

Varric continued to snore. Fenris's shadow didn't stir.

Priana sighed lengthily. Her elbow fell against the small strip of bared skin on his side and the contact burned through him like a fever, leaving him dizzy and panting. "Fuck," she said, quietly but clearly.

"Hawke?" he whispered again.

"Nuh. Like what you wanted. There's no one here, oh, Anders."

She sounded so awake but her hips kept moving, kept _rutting_ against him and he was so hard now that it hurt. He turned, he couldn't not turn.

She made the sweetest sound of protest as he moved, her hand groping across his chest, her legs tangling with his. He wound up on his back, squinting at her face in the reddish half-light.

Her eyes were closed, her mouth open. "Mmh, Anders, please," she moaned, and it was too loud, Varric was going to wake, Fenris was going to hear. He turned further, intending to shake her a little, and his knee slipped between her legs, riding up. She thrust her pelvis forward, contacting the long muscle of his thigh and then grinding down. Her mouth opened further, her head tilted back.

There were any number of things he could have done - put his hand over her face, coughed loudly, pretended to wake from a nightmare - but instead he sealed her mouth with his own, swallowed her groan of completion, and came in his pants.

She tensed, quivered, and then relaxed again, her mouth separating from his and letting out a small sigh. Her head rolled against his forearm where it supported his weight above her. A little smile curved one side of her mouth.

Anders panted and shook and tried not to fall on top of her like a poleaxed ox.

 _Maker._

WHAT JUST HAPPENED. WHAT DID YOU DO.

"Shut up, Justice," he muttered, trying to get some kind of rein on his body again.

Varric grunted and twitched on the other side of Priana and Anders jerked away from her so quickly that he thumped his head on the wall.

"Whazzat?" Varric stirred.

"Nothing," Anders whispered. "Bad dream."

"Wanna cuppa water, Blondie?" Varric chuckled blearily and then put his head back down.

Anders rubbed at the side of his head, cursing to himself. A hasty bit of well-contained fire magic took care of the evidence on his belly - thank you Karl for that handy tip for the young male mage - but nothing could scour the memory of Priana's mouth open beneath his, or the vibration of her voice as she came, or the way that her pleasure had sparked his, like flame to tinder.

He put the heels of his palms against his eyes and did his very best not to weep.

"Mage."

He scrubbed his face roughly and sat up.

Fenris stood at the cave mouth, hunched over and clutching his giant sword.

 _Maker, no. Tell me he didn't witness ..._

"You used magic," said Fenris, his voice low. "Why?"

"Hit my head. Bad dream," said Anders, relieved enough that he couldn't summon his usual tart edge.

"Huh." Fenris lingered a moment, his head angled a little to the right, and Anders knew that he was looking at Priana, taking in her disheveled, unconscious beauty.

"Shouldn't you be watching the entrance?" Anders asked. There was that edge.

"It's your watch," said Fenris, not without satisfaction.

Anders collected himself, squeezed past the elf in the narrow passage, and went out to tend the fire. Fenris was lying down in the place he'd vacated, settling in next to Priana. If it had been _him_ there while she'd dreamed ...

SHE SAID YOUR NAME.

Anders huffed a short laugh. "So she did," he said. "That's a bad thing, though, right?"

Justice did not respond.

In a few hours the other would wake and they would resume their slog though the Roads and hopefully they would all survive. Priana would take her money and move her family up to Hightown where they would be safe. Varric would make it all into a story. Fenris would - go on brooding, most like. And Anders would go back to his clinic and his cause and stop tormenting himself with things he could never have.

For now, though, he let himself watch the flames and remember her mouth and dream.

Just a little.


End file.
